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Early Media Impressions of TGs
Footprints from the Past
Part IV
By Andee W
Subscribers can review parts one, two, and three of the Footprints series.
How many of us began our walk down the transgendered path with the help or encouragement of a parent, sibling, or other close relative? In my own situation, for reason of economy, as a baby and toddler I was dressed by my mother in hand me down little girls clothes, from my sister and older cousin. At that age I certainly didn’t object! As I got older though, I remember being embarrassed about some small black and white snapshots of three little girls (aged 2, 3, and 4) in a family album long since lost - my cousin, my sister, and ... me! "Why was I dressed like that" was the question that as a child I never seemed to be able to get a straight answer to from my Mom or my Aunt. In my small town elementary school universe of the 1950's, I was small and slight. Which got me branded as a sissy by the bullies at school, and from who I tried to give a wide berth after enduring taunts and fights. Survival skills had taught me not to be discouraged for pursuing stereotypical (for the time) girlish activities, such as ballet class with my sister (in our close-by major city), and playing dolls and house in my mostly girl neighborhood. I didn’t sense there was anything particularly wrong with that since my Mom put my sister in charge of watching out for me, and I felt that I fit in and had more fun with my girlfriends than I did being the last one chosen on the ballfield. I didn’t mind the dress up games - I looked forward to them! And usually for Halloween my sister and I were dressed alike in girl costumes as princesses, witches, and or walking dolls. As we grew older, sis was my confidant, coach, teacher, and guide in the ways of femininity. Others here might have a similar experience with someone close.
The letters this month relate to this theme, and are just after the turn of the century, in the time of, and during, the Great War. The first letter is from the magazine New Fun, in November 1914.
“My passion for female attire commenced some sixteen years ago, when, as a lad of fourteen, I went to live with an aunt, and as mostly her sole companion, on special occasions I used to help her dress, and her dainty corsets and other attire so attracted me, that whenever I had the chance to be alone, I couldn't resist the desire to get into them myself. After doing this some time quite secretly, my aunt came home unexpectedly and found me playing my violin and dressed in almost complete female attire. To my surprise, she was quite pleased with me, and as it was wet weather and a bank holiday, she persuaded me to wear the clothes all day, and after dinner she changed her corsets for her best and smallest pair and I was dressed in a quite complete outfit, finishing with a pretty evening frock and a dainty Swiss apron and high heeled shoes.
I shall never forget the sensation; it was simply superb. After that I often had a full evening with my aunt in her attire, and on two or three occasions went for a little work [sic] (walk) out with her after dark.
I am now a happily married man, and my liking for pretty feminine attire has grown even stronger. My wife's clothes, with the exception of her gloves, fit me beautifully, and I can dress myself quickly and perfectly in them. She wears a 21 inch corset (I could really wear a 20), No. 5 shoes, and everything is of the daintiest, the underclothing particularly so. I seldom go more than two or three days without having a complete change of clothes, and it is my constant delight, after a heavy day at the office, to get home, have a bath, change into female attire, and have tea.”
Oh, to be so lucky to have an Auntie like that! But, how many of us would have loved to as teenagers experienced the circumstance described in the last letter this month.
Entitled A Boy Who As A Girl, it is from New Fun in Fall of 1918.
“As a boy I was noted for my good looks, and at the first school I went to I was known as 'Kate.' I had such a bad time of it that the connection by marriage with whom I lived took me away, and decided to have a governess for me. I was at this time (now eight years ago) fourteen. Soon afterwards my mother's cousin by marriage took me and the governess to live in Paris. The governess was a pretty, and rather lively, girl of nineteen and encouraged me in my girlishness. Once or twice when Cousin Adela was away for a day or two Miss F. dressed me up in her things. How I was delighted in the masquerade! She used to lace me into a 19 inch corset which she had got for me.
In the end she persuaded Cousin Adela (I begged her to listen to Miss F.'s plea) to let me dress and be brought up as a girl. I was always much more interested in girls pursuits - such as needlework, housework, piano-playing, and painting - than in boy's hobbies or pastimes.
My feet and hands were exceptionally small; I took only 6 1/4 inch gloves and could wear ladies 3's in shoes. And my figure was most carefully, even rigorously trained. By the time I was sixteen I was transformed into a really pretty girl; slight and tall. My complexion had been so well cared for that it was quite a 'milk and roses' type. I made up too, and used to evoke the most outspoken admiration when walking or riding. My bust, with the carefully cut corsets and constant massage, became almost as full, and with the same contours, as that of a girl, and my hair, allowed to grow and stimulated, soon reached my waist.
I always wear the most exquisite French lingerie and the smartest shoes, stockings, and gloves. I have been in England nearly two years and since last Christmas have been living in my own flat (my cousin Adela died three years ago) with a girl chum. I go about nearly everywhere, to the theatres, music halls, Hurlingham, and at homes, and my sex has never ever been suspected - certainly it has not been challenged.
When I glance in the shop windows in Regent Street I see the reflection of a very pretty girl of about twenty, dressed in the height of fashion, with a remarkably good figure, and a 'silhouette' that any woman might envy.”
I hope you have enjoyed this month’s installment, and will continue to follow the footprints (of high heels?) as we walk confidently through our century.
Andee is married with two children and lives outside Washington DC. You can send her email at AndeeW@aol.com.
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